No Strings Attached
by LunaStellaCat
Summary: Severus Snape was Professor Dumbledore's marionette, but he needed a friend. A/N: So, I have always thought the chapter "The Dark Lord Ascending" frightened me, so I wrote this. I hope you enjoyed reading it. As always, any reviews or critiques would be awesome.


_September, 1986_

He usually didn't care about the new people who joined the staff at Hogwarts. He'd been here for five years, and Severus felt comfortable in his post. Forget that some little boy secured it for him.

Nobody knew this. For all anybody else knew, and he did not care, Severus hid in his dungeons in his spare time and put Hogwarts on the map with his research or whatever the other professors supposed he did in his spare time; Severus had a plethora of options, and the potions master could have pulled this off if needed. Honestly, during the first few years of holding this post, Severus Snape had avoided the headmaster like the plague.

He spent a lot of time with his nose stuck in a book, which explained the whispers about research. It certainly wasn't a boring position. All in all, Severus slowly realized he'd been fortunate to be by Dumbledore's side. Did he trust him wholeheartedly? No. That would be beyond stupid. Severus Snape had agreed to be Professor Dumbledore's marionette, although he hadn't yet been put into play. He trusted no one.

The librarian barely acknowledged him before he retreated into the stacks.

It was usually easier to hide among the bookshelves than claim a table. Since the school year had just started last week, even the brainiacs and the perfectionists hadn't yet come out of the woods. All right, so there were two students sitting at opposite ends of the library. There was usually a couple bookworms sprinkled throughout every year. (Three hardly ever happened, and whenever this did take place, the dumb one standing at the end of the line often got edged out.) Back to the two bookworms. It was odd how they never seemed to pair up because this would be a match.

Five years ago, on the date he started here, thanks to the Sorting Hat, one of the smart ones got allotted to Severus. Jasper got a head start without him. Bored out of his mind and in desperate need of something to do, Severus decided to push Jasper Montague in the right direction. After snatching a few books out of the Restricted Section in the library, he nudged the overweight boy and spilled the volumes onto the table.

"These are not what you are looking for." Severus swapped these out for two books on the table. He read the notes on Jasper's roll of parchment, unable to help himself, and scratched out a couple things whilst adding a few others. He leaned over the boy, pretending to be absorbed in his work. Only seven students had made it into his N.E.W.T. class and survived in their seventh-year. There had been ten last year, but three of them had dropped out after practice exams last June. He'd flat-out told a Hufflepuff to drop out and quit wasting both his and the student's time. He got shuffled over to Muggle Studies. "If you want to stop being a nothing, Jasper, take a hard look at your life and decide to make something out of it. Pick something."

Jasper read over his additions, his ears perking up in surprise. The changes stood out as minor things, yet they were there.

Severus held out his hand. "Your copy of _Advanced Potion Making_?"

Jasper jerked his head towards the librarian, who sat at the circulation desk feet away. She couldn't possibly hear them. Even if she could, she probably wouldn't do anything about it, and Severus felt he had pretty good odds on this. After a moment, Jasper bent down and dug through his schoolbag. Severus reached over, drawing from memory, and dipped a quill in ink before he crafted a receipt with updated instructions for a Time-lapse Draught. The brew, if its not maker managed to pull it off, locked the drinker in a constant lapse of déjà vu.

"I didn't help you," said Severus, handing the boy the quill. He had no idea whether the boy was frightened of him or not, for Jasper was a mellow young man, but he'd find out sooner or later. Severus clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Monday evening, eight-thirty, my office, Mr. Montague, if you're interested."

Severus disappeared back into the bookshelves before Jasper had time to register whatever had happened. He gave a hesitant reply. "Thank you?"

As Severus re-shelved the books, he bumped in a plump woman with dirty blonde hair. She busied herself with a book cart. "That was nice of you."

Severus placed one of her books, Magical Theory, back in its proper place because this woman tossed things around pell mell. Why was she in a hurry? They stopped teaching classes at five, and the library didn't close its doors until eight. He'd spotted this plain woman during mealtimes and never bothered speaking to her. She faded into the background, honestly, though he thought Plain Jane taught Muggle Studies.

"Thank you," said the woman, tucking away the last book and offering her hand. "Charity Burbage, Muggle Studies."

Plain Charity hardly sounded any better in his book. Severus shook it and immediately dropped her hand. "Severus Snape, Potions master."

"I knew that," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She stood on tip-toe and coaxed a book out with the tips of her fingers. Severus, annoyed, took out his wand. The book zoomed into his hand with a lazy flick, and she flashed him an embarrassed smile as she muttered her thanks. "Everyone's afraid of you."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering it that's what passed for conversation these days. He followed her down two rows of bookshelves for no reason at all. Charity Burbage couldn't help being short, but she could help with bring rude. She didn't even know him! In his schooldays, Severus would've given her a piece of his mind. She went with honesty, and he liked that. Whenever she chose to turn around, he'd look like some sad stalker, so Severus went fishing for small talk.

"You know Jasper Montague?" He helped himself to a lantern and lit it with a tap of his wand. Charity knelt down and started searching for something else.

"Jasper? He's in my class." Charity pointed with her index finger, bumping into the library ladder beside her. "Can you get the third book on the seventh row for me? I need it for a lesson."

Severus frowned at the library ladder, unimpressed by her laziness. "It's right there."

"Oh, I'm afraid of heights," she admitted. She smiled when Severus caught the book a minute later by casting the same spell. "Thanks. Yeah, so Jasper's a talented boy. He's Muggle-born, you know."

Severus did not. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Jasper might play the part of a brainiac, yet he was the furthest thing from a braggart. Charity liked to talk, he noticed. He stopped her when she started rambling on about self-cleaning ovens. "Why would a Muggle-born bother with Muggle Studies? Did he not fit into their society?"

"I don't know. Why would you bother with History of Magic?" Charity stopped by the circulation desk and waited for Madam Pince to check her out. Professors didn't follow the same strict guidelines as students. Severus found a book beating itself around his head last term when he accidentally dog-eared a page without thinking. Severus opened the library door for her and walked with her. "Did you ever have any Muggle friends?"

"Yes," he said shortly, definitely not wanting to go there. That was his business.

Charity looked doubtful. When she shifted her book, he caught something glittering on her left hand. "What's the stupidest Muggle invention?"

"An egg separator," he said automatically, borrowing an answer from his mother.

"Good point." She stopped, seriously considering his answer. Charity started babbling again. "If you're separating an egg, you're baking anyway, so why not use your hand? It slips through your fingers, and you're going to wash up."

Severus shrugged. "I don't bake."

"You don't say," she said dryly, stepping into her office on the first floor and depositing her books into a chair. She didn't take out a wand to clear up and merely emptied another chair by setting a couple cardboard boxes on the floor. Severus guessed she was a Squib because she lit candles by striking a matchbox with quick fingers. She set the spent matches aside. "Tea?"

"No, thank you." Severus remained standing. Charity started a fire the old-fashioned way and crumpled up paper grocery bags and old editions of the _Daily Prophet_. Unable to resist himself, he asked, "You're Muggle-born? Do you do these things the hard way to prove a point? Bet you're husband finds that infuriating."

"No and no," she said, getting to her feet and wiping her hands on robes as she got to her feet. The fire took its time. She answered his first two questions straightaway. Charity warmed her hands by the fire. "I'm not married; I was engaged, and Mr. Dearborn didn't leave leave me because I acted like some sorry Muggle, if that's what you were thinking."

"Oh." Severus had read that name in the papers some years ago. The fellow disappeared and the searches ceased whenever they lost interest. An apology and condolences would sound weak at this point, so he stood there.

"What makes you any different from them?" Charity shot back at him, placing her hands on her hips. She pointed at the open office door. "Jasper is clever, and patient, and kind. You're judging him."

"I am not."

"I see it in your eyes! It didn't matter minutes ago. But now it does."

"I am not," repeated Severus flatly, hiding behind a blank mask.

Who was judging him judging Mr. Montague? If this wasn't calling the kettle back, he didn't know what was! This woman, this stranger, had the audacity to insult him over nothing. Nothing! Severus hadn't come here asking for a fight. In fact, he didn't ask for ask of this. He was a rare card indeed, Jasper Montague, if he were indeed a Muggle-born in Slytherin, and whoever this kid was, he was a talented wizard.

"Professor Burbage, I wouldn't care if that boy was raised by wolves. Have you ever caught Montague in a lecture? He makes you think on your feet, a refreshing change of pace, because most students couldn't care less." Severus raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to add in her two Knuts, though her silence admittedly pleased him. "He's brilliant. Teaching him is a privilege."

Severus, somewhat surprised these words came out of his mouth, played them back in his mind. Charity walked behind her desk and sat down, reheating the water for tea she'd let go cold. It would take a good ten minutes before she got to enjoy her tea. He almost walked over and tapped her kettle with his wand, but he didn't. It was her choice. Instead of ending things on a bad note or saying something he might regret later, Severus said goodnight and left her office.

 _January, 1987_

Severus never left Hogwarts during winter break. Where would he go? The house on Spinner's End, his childhood home stood empty, and the last thing he was going to do was visit his father. Severus often pretended he had no father. Ever since he returned to Hogwarts, he sometimes returned to his house in the summertime to simply have a place to call home. During Christmastime, a time he hated, it hardly seemed worth it.

Shortly after midnight on New Year's Day, minutes after the start of the year, he wandered out of his office in search of a good bottle of wine. Actually, he was halfway through one, so the second one really didn't matter. He simply wanted to try something different. As he headed towards the Grand Staircase, it occurred to Severus that he could've simply summoned a house-elf.

He stored this stroke of brilliance away for later. Brilliant. Months ago, he'd called Jasper Montague brilliant. Charity Burbage hadn't contradicted him, a good move, yet the moment Jasper did something stupid, Severus bet he'd recant that statement.

As he stumbled along, he spotted her walking towards him. She looked pretty in a blue dress. Or he was a little gone and Charity looked as plain as ever, Severus wasn't really sure at the moment. Whether she was coming or going, he didn't know right away. Had she even been at Hogwarts over the holidays? Probably not. He would've noticed plain Jayne sitting at Christmas lunch. There was a New Year's Day feast, a small thing, later that day. A lot of the students didn't bother showing up. It was more of a lunch.

When she placed her bags at the foot of the Grand Staircase, Severus took this to mean she had gone home over the holidays. When she took out her wand and waved it over her luggage, it disappeared.

"You're a witch," he said, a little too loudly, following her up to her office without waiting for an invitation. A large white handbag swung on her arm. Charity smiled at him, shaking her head. This confused him. "You're not a witch? Well, you're not a Muggle-born because you're already told me that. Oh. You're a Squib. That's all that's left."

Charity placed a finger to his lips. Her skin was flushed. When she unlocked her door, she ushered him inside, before closing the door and locking it from the inside.

"You're really loud, sir." She lowered her hand and slipped off her shoes. They looked uncomfortable. She cocked her head, curious, and he caught the wine on her breath as she leaned in closer. "Are you drunk?"

He shook his head slowly. "You are."

"Yeah," she admitted, giggling. Before he had a chance to say good night, she stroked his face and started kissing him. "You should go."

Severus stared at her, slightly annoyed she'd taken his line. He fished around for any excuse because he really shouldn't have followed her in here. Where was his excuse? Oh, yes, he thought as he spotted the engagement ring on her finger, this was it. Charity stepped over her shoes and began unpacking her handbag. She took out an unopened bottle.

"Want a drink? It's chilled." She sat on her desk, and Severus conjured two wine glasses before he walked over and poured their drinks. She giggled again, a pleasant sound. "My mother-in-law asked for my ring back. I didn't know what to do, so I stole this. And I left."

"You're engaged," he muttered, turning away from her.

Shaking her head, Charity sipped her wine and set the glass in her desk. "He's been gone for more than five years. He's presumed dead. He's dead. I'm engaged to a dead man, Severus. You want to know the last thing Caradoc said to me? It was New Year's Eve. A night like this one."

Severus shook his head, not wanting to hear this.

Charity did not pick up on the hint. "He said he'd be right back. We'd see each other at midnight."

He thought about Caradoc Dearborn more often than he'd ever wanted to since September. A lot had happened in the few years he followed the Dark Lord. It had all been a blur of faces and names, really, yet he remembered that name. Severus felt like he'd been punched in the stomach as the air left his lungs. One New Year's Eve, he'd chased this man down an alleyway. The fellow had worn a blue jumper. After this, and he swore this was the truth, Severus didn't know had happened to the man.

Severus cleared his throat, uncertain and scared. "Charity."

"Kiss me." She waved her left hand, forgetting about the past for the moment.

He felt sorry for her. He felt sorry for himself, really. Her eyes shined with tears. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, and it had never meant anything. Severus started kissing her. They finished half the bottle together. Wine turned into tears for her. She sighed, enjoying his touch. Severus laughed when Charity said she'd probably have a couple children if things had played out differently, yet she knew nothing about this. Setting his glass down, he drained the rest of hers in one and carried her off to bed.

Later that day, he opened his eyes when she smacked him with a pillow. Charity stood there dressed in a dressing gown. The sound of rushing water came from the nearby private bathroom.

"You need to go." She fidgeted, uncomfortable This was obviously her first morning after. "I'm going to take a shower, and you're … you won't be here. So… goodbye."

Severus thought this might've worked had she lived in some flat and they'd stayed together for the night after celebrating. What exactly were they supposed to do when they headed down to breakfast in the Great Hall? It wasn't like she was leaving. He glanced at her, still half-asleep. He decided to cut to the chase and make this easy for her.

"It means nothing."

She nodded, biting her lip.

"You want to go again?" Severus guessed she'd be skipping breakfast. She shook her head, clearly giving him another answer. "You're certain?"

"It's just sex?" She hesitated, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Nothing more."

They kissed each other and made love again.

 _November, 1992_

Five years, nearly six years, passed in a blink of an eye, Severus enjoyed her. She wasn't like other woman he'd been with in the past; he didn't fall back on the old line because everyone said that. He feared she'd ask for marriage or a commitment, but Charity made things comfortable. She asked no questions, and he made no promises. The sex got better. Whenever she started to try to make their peaceful place complicated, he distracted her easily. Nobody knew.

"You still wear the ring," he said, sighing when she made a face. He wasn't changing his mind and kept things casual, no strings attached. "It's just an observation."

She traced the Dark Mark on his arm. "Tell about this, and we'll discuss the ring."

"Why?" Severus rolled his eyes. Why would she want to hear about his past? As she was Muggle-born, this could only lead to a talk and end in a row. (He had indeed found out she was Muggle-born.) He chuckled darkly, saying this without thinking about it. He really needed to filter. "Your fiancé's not going to suddenly come out of hiding, is he?"

Charity rolled her eyes and got up, tying the strap of her dressing gown. He thought she was going to kick him out, for he'd earned it with this comment, but Charity let it started pacing her bedroom. "What did you do, Severus? It can't be that bad."

"It is," he said darkly, glaring at her. He sat up in the bed as she tended the fire. Charity argued with him all the time, though she rarely kicked him out of her quarters. She might lose it if she learned the truth. He spoke to her plainly, throwing out a guess. "Is this about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"What if it is? It all boils down to the same thing." Charity stepped back from the fire. She didn't fear being taken, but there was no mistaking her frightened demeanor. She shrugged. "Students want to drop my course, and who am I to stop them? How do I educate them about Muggles when they are being targeted?"

"This will pass." Severus angered her by merely rolling his eyes. This was ridiculous. The heir of Slytherin wouldn't target people for taking on a school subject. When she asked how he knew this, Severus lost his patience, too. The moment she mentioned Lockhart, he said, "You actually think Albus Dumbledore puts his trust in that pretty idiot? No."

Charity halted in front of the bed. "How do you know?"

"Because I know. It is common sense. Do you trust Lockhart?" Severus sighed when she shook her head vehemently. "There you are. You don't need to know, so please don't ask me."

"Why?"

Severus hissed through gritted teeth. "It doesn't concern you. Why are you worried?"

"Because I fear it. I fear everything!"

"Oh, you're a Seer now, are you?" Severus got out of bed and got dressed. He tired of dealing with a hysterical woman. If he knew the next step in the plan, if there was a plan, he wouldn't share it with her. He needed to remind her, although Severus seriously doubted she'd forgotten the unwritten terms of their agreement. "What is this we're doing, Charity?"

"We're lovers, nothing more," she said, slumping her shoulders. She sat on the bed and braided her hair with quick fingers. "The ring? I don't what to forget what it cost me, so I wear it. You were one of them, Severus, you have no idea what it was like living as a Muggle under You-Know-Who."

"Don't I?" Severus asked evenly as he slipped on his shoes. He ought to tell her about Mr. Dearborn right now. What was the worst she could do? Charity had never raged at him before. Sure, he would end this, and she'd never speak to him again, but it was nothing more than love. This, too, would pass. "Listen to me."

"Jasper Montague." She threw out a name wildly.

Severus stopped, forgetting his damned confession once again. He stared at her, dumbfounded. "What?"

"If whatever monster on the Chamber took Jasper, you'd be furious, and you'd stop at nothing of that boy got Petrified. I know you. There hasn't been another Montague."

"He has a half-brother, the Captain of the Quidditch team," said Severus, the sides of his mouth twitching. He sat beside her, a little disappointed she didn't share in his joke. He didn't know what he did to earn a kiss, but he took it.

She sighed when their lips parted. "You know what I meant. There will never be another Montague. I bet you'll go mad looking for one."

Jasper Montague had perfected the Time-lapse Draught in a few short years. She was right. He'd known this the day he saluted Jasper Montague as he'd climbed into the thestral-drawn carriage and took the traditional journey away from Hogwarts Castle. Jasper, laughing heartily, had waved his journal, his receipt book, at the potions master. Severus had forgotten to give the young man a parting gift, his own copy of _Advanced Potion Making_. Severus kept forgetting to send it.

Severus squeezed her hand. "There shall not be another Montague. His brother's an idiot."

"Thank you," said Charity, relieved, saying this like he said it purely for her benefit. Severus wasn't going to admit such a thing. "I'd thought you'd gone stupid on me for a moment. One brother is not like the other."

Severus sat back, thinking about this carefully. He spoke slowly, making the first move. "I tolerate you quite well."

"Oh, you flatter me." Charity poured on the melodrama, placing her hand over her heart. "Those are words every girl wants to hear, Severus."

"What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me," said Severus, dryly, letting her finish and getting up to make her bed, "and thank you for that, was that we should be friends. I'd like to be your friend."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly making him spell this out. "And we've doing what exactly?"

"You try my patience, Charity."

Charity got up and helped him with the other side of the bed, pulling the covers tight and rearranging the pillows, although she also added there was little point in making a bed when she simply messed it every night.

"The house-elf would do it," he pointed out, walking towards the door. "Good night." 


End file.
